The Wolves' Journey
by Curiositatis
Summary: The War on Abyssals has lasted for nearly two decades, and the fighting is protracted and bitter. The navies of the world are cut off from one another, unable to assist each other in any way. The Germans have had enough: in a desperate bid to break the impasse, a task force is sent to Japan, to their former allies. Part of the Operation Eclipse series.
1. A Brief Respite

The sweet strains of a mourning violin floated over the humid air, playing a melody foreign to the expansive jungle that loomed at the edge of the beach. The breeze carried the melancholy whine with its breath, and up above the darkened clouds stood still, as if the heavens were listening as well.

Gneisenau finished with a neat flourish and the little audience clapped with delight. She bowed, and sat down on the fine sand, her violin and bow resting beside her.

"Frau Gneisenau, that was a splendid performance!" Seydlitz squealed, jumping on the unwary Gneisenau in a sudden embrace. Z1 was a little more restrained, and beamed as Gneisenau detached herself from the adoring Seydlitz.

"Ah, that song brought back memories of home," Bismarck mused, eyes closed in reminiscence. She leant back, but then suddenly swatted around her. "If it weren't for these damn mosquitoes, that is."

"You liked it, Frau Bismarck?" Gneisenau enquired, as the effusive Seydlitz now played with Z1. She had always admired the great Bismarck and her reputation as the symbol of the Kriegsmarine. Even now, she felt a little twinge in her heart as Bismarck praised her skill.

Bismarck nodded. "I always have, Frau Gneisenau. Your skill with the violin is undoubtedly the finest in the service," she replied, grinning. "Of home and of battle, there is none better."

Gneisenau blushed and turned away, trying to suppress her emotions. She tried to look nonchalant, tuning her violin strings, but she only managed to clumsily drop it. Bismarck, blissfully unaware of Gneisenau's emotions, turned to look at the remaining two figures still standing on the beach, Scheer and Konigsberg.

"I wonder how long they are going to stand there? " Bismarck wondered aloud. She yawned and lay back, settling in a comfortable position. "I am going to take a nap now. Wake me up when they finish, Frau Gneisenau." She placed her cap down and cuddled the sand, and within minutes she was asleep.

Off near the water's edge Scheer gazed out at the sea, still in her battle gear with her two main batteries pointing down. Just off to the side stood the light cruiser Konigsberg, dressed in a navy pea jacket and short-hem dress, with cropped blonde hair with a sailor's cap and rimmed glasses. She faithfully kept the silence as the impassive Scheer studied the dark rolling sea.

Regarded as the dark horse of the Kriegsmarine, Scheer was of the prestigious Deutschland-class cruiser, the unique design of which prompted some to call it the "pocket battleship" class. With her unparalleled speed and armament she was known as a terror of the Atlantic, a fearsome raider which many merchantmen quivered at the mention of.

In Kiel and Hamburg she was known as a cold and somewhat ruthless girl, whose personal emotions never showed. While spoken of in hushed tones at base she was widely respected as an efficient commander and a brilliant fighter, and her status was enhanced by her natural beauty – with carefully kept long dark hair and unblemished complexion, as well as the formidable vice-admiral's uniform she wore, she was a favourite of the Admiral, who (many rumoured) had a soft spot for her.

And now she stood on the sandy beach of an unnamed island in the Pacific, on the other side of the world from her home. Scheer would never think of home while out on missions, believing that reminiscence would hinder her concentration. Instead she recollected and pondered the little information she had been given about their contact, the Imperial Japanese Navy.

Even though they were once allies, intelligence about them was scarce. The archives in Wilhelmshaven had little to say on the subject of their former allies. Most active communications had been cut with the Abyssal invasions a decade ago, and nowadays every navy in the world was cut off from one another.

For most people the sea rolled quietly, the waves lapping gently under the dark sky. Not Scheer. With the eyes of a falcon she peered into the solid darkness, undaunted.

"Konigsberg, recent Abyssal movements?"

Konigsberg snapped to attention and read from her notes. "Frau Scheer, immediate radar reports and graviton readings indicate two Abyssal groups in the outer immediate area. Tidal shift reports indicate positions of 330 and 265 respectively. Enemy strength is believed to be moderate, suggesting a lack of enemy awareness to our position."

Crossing her arms Scheer contemplated the intelligence, formulating a plan to evade the Abyssal patrols. Compared to her experiences the Abyssal forces here had been easy, too easy. Perhaps something more sinister, more monstrous awaited them.

She turned to the small group on the beach. Bismarck still napped, while Gneisenau amusedly watched Seydlitz chasing the laughing Z1. Scheer registered no emotion as she watched the homely scene. A mission was still a mission, and to her a break was nothing more than a necessity for the others.

"Frau Seydlitz!" she called. In an instant Seydlitz, who had been playfully chasing Z1, abruptly skid to a halt and turned towards her. In a sulky saunter she made her way to Scheer.

"Yes, Frau Scheer? You called?" Seydlitz came to a halt before Scheer, her face creased by a frown.

"Send out the reconnaissance planes. We need conclusive aerial intelligence of the immediate area. Understand?"

"Aff-irm-at-ive, Frau Scheer." Seydlitz turned about and trudged back to the group. Picking up her heavy crossbow she wound up the iron cranequin and placed a jet-black bolt into the groove. Raising the contraption into the air Seydlitz released the catch and the bolt whistled high into the night sky, disappearing in the inky void.

The drone of tiny radial engines filled the air for a short moment, fading away into the distance. "There, it is done. They will be back in half an hour, if the weather permits…." She turned to Scheer, who had resumed her silent staring contest with the sea. Seydlitz sighed and turned back to the group. "Frau Scheer is no fun at all, eh?"

"You cannot complain, you know what she is like. Let her be. Maybe our encounter with Nippon will change her," Gneisenau mused, idly plucking a violin string. "Hopefully for the better…"

"I guess you are right, Frau Gneisenau," Seydlitz turned away and looked back at Scheer, still staring at the sea. After a moment of contemplation she brightened, and turned to the unsuspecting Z1 who sat on the sand, building up a small heap. "On the other hand, however…." With a playful roar she pounced on the startled Z1, who kicked up the heap of sand in her surprise.

"Got you, Z1!" Seydlitz squealed, holding the squirming destroyer close to her. Z1 struggled with all her might but in a moment collapsed on the sand, crying with laughter – Seydlitz was tickling her, having at last found her weak spot.

"Hahahaha! Stop it, Frau Seydlitz, that tickles!" Gneisenau looked on the little scene with an indulgent smile, amused at their antics. Beside her Bismarck slept contentedly, completely undisturbed.

* * *

><p>Over the dark seas three buzzing specks swept across the murky sky, relentlessly scanning the surface. They flew in a loose formation, covering the endless expanse.<p>

A blinding light pierced the darkness, its beam cutting through the night sky like a slash of the black canvas, exposing the white underneath. In an instant one of the black planes erupted into crimson flames, the light picking it off with pinpoint accuracy.

Without further prompting the other two veered away, racing back into the darkness, but the thunder of guns shattered the silence, filling the air with the resounding blast of cannon and rattle of machine-guns. Another scout erupted like a blowtorch and fell in flames into the void. The last of the three managed to escape the storm of flak and tracers, and in an instant, like a magician's cloak, the thunder ceased as abruptly as it had started.

The lone plane shook its wings and gunned the throttle, hurtling into the night sky. While it sped out of the area its cameras whirred and developed the images – images of a terror that one commander had perfectly anticipated.


	2. The Battle of Dyaba

Of the many islands of the Pacific, many have stood witness to the furious battles between Abyssal and ship-girls, and often many of them are left with lingering scars of battle. But there are some islands deemed insignificant to both sides – islands that have flourished under neglect, teeming with rare flora and fauna.

One of these islands is the tiny atoll of Dyaba. With its rare speckled lorikeets and the abundance of tortoises that lay their eggs in its pristine beaches, a stranger to these shores would be perfectly content to sit at the base of its tall palm trees and admire the perfect symphony of tropical wildlife.

But not for the girls that now approached it.

"Bismarck, take Leberecht with you and protect our right flank. Seydlitz, cover them with fighters." Crisp orders came over the radio as Admiral Scheer manoeuvred into position, keeping in line with the island but maintaining within visual range of Bismarck. Gneisenau followed her as they slowed to a stop abreast of the island.

"Bismarck, in position!"

"Z1, in position!"

Scheer lifted her binoculars and looked out. She scanned the horizon carefully, but saw nothing but varying shades of blue.

The now-cool voice of the carrier came through. "Seydlitz reporting: fighters dispatched."

A low drone could be heard far above as several little yellow-spinners darted just below the low cloud. Scheer regarded them with interest – the much-vaunted Bf109Ts were now being deployed for the first time in the Pacific. It felt oddly emotional seeing both air power alongside the sea power that the homeland prided itself on. Scheer let the emotion linger, then promptly extinguished it and returned her attention to the battlefield.

"Seydlitz again! Enemy fleet spotted four degrees portside, distance of forty-two! Estimated time of- oh my!" Scheer snatched up her radio mike, but before she could speak she saw what the carrier had seen – the air was suddenly rent with the wails and rumblings of dogfighting aircraft. Little grey darts detached themselves from the tangle and dived, flashing – suddenly the sea all around them became perforated with little splashes.

"All ships, evasive manoeuvres into defensive positions," Scheer calmly ordered, retreating in echelon behind Dyaba. The rest of the ships fairly zigzagged into similar positions. "Konigsberg, move into flak support range."

"Yes, Frau Scheer." The cruiser moved up and soon the pale blue sky was riddled with black puffs of flak, the many fighters and bombers weaving around the new clouds, some succumbing to the bursts and bursting into a ragged flame.

Scheer peered at the horizon again through her binoculars. A column of smoke caught her attention, exactly where Seydlitz had mentioned.

Many squadron commanders would have elected to stay put and open fire at the first opportunity – but not Scheer. With the keen mind of a firs-class tactician she saw an opening for a strategy that was seldom used in the service – but it could work better here. The wind seemed to favour the new plan too: as if invisible hands guided it, the breeze shifted, settling against them. Perfect.

"Gneisenau, Bismarck, withdraw in abreast formation to rear positions!"

Bismarck started, taken aback by the command. "Frau Scheer, what are you thinking!? We are in perfect position to-"

Gneisenau cut in. "Frau Scheer, I am not sure if this is-"

_"__Befehl ist befehl!"_ Scheer shouted over them, reiterating the command – and upon hearing that flaring voice the two warships reversed into position without further demur.

"Leberecht, Konigsberg – evasive patrol!" Without responding the destroyer and cruiser meekly shifted into wide circles ahead of the atoll, perhaps also taken aback by their commander's sudden change in temper.

"More fighters, patrol distance seven north of my location," Scheer ordered. Within minutes a familiar drone could be heard distantly.

Now it was a waiting game. As the sky above the circling ships cleared of strafing and smoking aircraft, an eerie silence descended on the battlefield as the whole squadron nervously awaited the arrival of the enemy fleet.

They didn't have to wait long. Soon the dim haze of the approaching Abyssal fleet could be seen, growing ominously – and sure enough, the first wave of shells came crashing down, kicking up huge columns of water in their wake.

"Rear formation, train guns at moderate range, but hold your fire! Patrol formation, retreat at equal speed towards rear formation, harassing fire!" The triple elevens mounted on Scheer whirred into life, adjusting themselves to her orders. She could hear the hiss of compressed air as the destroyer and cruiser fired their torpedoes, moving in steady formation towards her, their own little guns popping in reply.

The Abyssal fleet drew closer and closer, and finally Scheer could see them clearly, in all their hallmarks –gaping, red-hot maws, ragged but sturdy steel plating, and that single common factor: a look and intent of pure evil and malice. Scheer recognized them: a standard fleet of Tsu-class heavy cruisers escorting their flagship, the mother of all of them, the Battleship Hime. Scheer thought the commander of the Pacific Abyssal Command a little humble for so fearsome a ship - but there was little time to dwell on the fact.

Scheer's six eleven-inch guns blasted their first salvo in a furious roar, and she could feel the heat of the blast engulf her, barely assuaging the thirst for battle – but as the fearsome Abyssals drew closer, the threat clear as day, the heat was replaced with her usual coolness, a coolness that foreboded ill of whoever opposed it.

The elevens roared again, and she swiftly followed the retreating destroyer and cruiser back to their defensive line, firing salvo after salvo into the thick of the fleet – but they drew closer still, like hunting wolves pursuing prey.

But what they didn't know would soon devastate them. Even if the abominations showed no signs of pain or emotion, they would certainly be feeling a lot of the former soon. Scheer smiled to herself. So far, the plan was going exceedingly well. Another chorus of steam hisses announced the launching of more torpedoes, but it didn't matter. She glimpsed the Abyssals racing just past Dyaba, and knew that it was all over.

"Patrol, break off! Rear guard, open fire!" Scheer split from Leberecht, throwing herself clear from the battleship's range and arc - with an almighty blast the two great battleships fired their guns in unison. A mix of eleven- and fifteen-inch shells flew straight and true to the unsuspecting fleet, which had no time to evade.

A cataclysmic blast shook the seas and the battlefield was instantly cloaked in a heavy smoke. As the heavy smoke cleared, all that was left of the four escorting cruisers was now charred scrap rising to the surface – and the battleship fared no better. Heavily bruised and battered beyond recognition, she stood in the wreckage, as still as a rock. With all but one battery of guns inoperable, she cursed aloud in the guttural cries of the Abyssal tongue.

Scheer surveyed her from a distance, her eyes betraying no hint of mercy. She pulled her mike in close.

Before Scheer could make the finishing order, the wails of diving Abyssal aircraft alerted her to the last ship in the fleet - the carrier that still lurked. But it was a distraction that she quickly realised the importance of. As Seydlitz's own fighters came down from the sun, Scheer quickly rounded on the crippled Abyssal battleship, but too late – its last battery of guns was pointed straight at her, and a malignant smile grew on its bruised, ragged face.


	3. First Contact

A tense, deadly silence blanketed the scene as Scheer stared impassively down the barrels of the Abyssal battleship's guns. Bismarck and Gneisenau froze, unsure of what to do; Konigsberg and Z1 watched, fearful of the outcome.

Seconds ticked by as the two ships regarded one another. Scheer looked upon the Battleship Hime without emotion, only a thin crease of contempt lining her pale cheeks. It was difficult to see what the Abyssal ship thought – but the long, slanted, mean barrels of the battleship was enough indication.

Suddenly, there was a report of guns in the far distance, beyond the atoll.

There was a great blast as the Abyssal battleship fired her guns in instinct and anger, but it was too late – Scheer deftly dodged the shells, stepping clear of the firing arc as gracefully as a ballerina. In one clean movement she advanced through the gun smoke, head tucked and face contorted in unmistakeable fury and concentration. Before any of the other ships could move Scheer had delivered a swift iron-plated kick straight into the Abyssal's abdomen, sending the charred battleship sprawling over the sea's surface.

Two triple turrets cranked downwards, all six barrels pointing down at the prone Abyssal. Scheer looked down on her redoubtable adversary as the shells slid into place, six chinks of certain doom ringing out over the quiet sea.

"Frau Scheer! Look!" Bismarck cried. Scheer looked up, and her eyes followed where she pointed. There, behind the line of palm trees, was a plume of billowing black smoke.

Without even looking back at the fallen Abyssal Scheer remotely detonated the charges, sending six high-explosive shells hurtling down, but only a mass of harmless splashes met her ears. The battleship had slipped away under the sea.

Scheer let the annoyance flicker for a moment, and then let it die as she turned her attention to the new development. The sky was clear once again – the other carrier must have retreated as well, Scheer thought.

The smoke was growing nearer and nearer – clearly approaching ships.

"All ships, form loose phalanx formation, prepare to receive unknown fleet. Seydlitz, I want normal air cover as soon as possible." Scheer ordered over the mike.

"Ehhh?! We're diving back in? Again?" came the carrier's exasperated reply.

Scheer ignored the anguished query, focusing only on the unknown ships that approached. The other ships slowly slipped back into formation.

There was excitement in the air as the ships of the 7th Southern Patrol Task Force sailed south under the new orders, but there was also a note of apprehension among some of the ships as they steamed towards Dyaba.

"Sakawa-san, what do you think about this?" inquired Noshiro.

"Pyaa! I never thought I'd see the day I would be the first to meet the foreign ships!" Sakawa squeaked in response. The cruiser did a little skip on the water in delight.

Noshiro looked away, feeling unhappy to be partnered up with her more carefree sister. She thought of Agano, back at base, all alone without her. She missed her big sister dearly, especially when she was picked for patrols instead of her. _Oh, Agano-sama, how I wish you were here instead…_

The two cruisers and four destroyers sailed onwards. Soon they neared the palm-graced atoll, where they were met with a fine mist – a clear sign of recent battle.

"Keep your eyes peeled for those foreigners, everyone." Noshiro warned.

The six ships spread out, covering a wider area. The mist grew thicker as they approached the atoll, but the sunlight was bright enough to throw the scorch marks and craters of shells into harsh relief. _A terrible battle has been fought here_, Sakawa mused to herself.

"Sakawa-san! Look! In the sky!" Kagerou called out.

Sakawa and Noshiro looked up, and with equal surprise saw planes flying overhead – not the ragged forms of Abyssal aircraft, but the familiar, piston-driven propellers of normal aircraft. Both cruisers swung their anti-air turrets into action, but even as the guns attained their optimum angle, Sakawa hesitated. The aeroplanes hung around in the sky, circling over them in endless loops. They were more like curious gulls than waiting vultures.

Suddenly, a clear, authoritative voice rang out over the mist-laden sea. It was no voice any of the ships of the IJN had ever heard, and its tone had an edge that immediately sent a chill down every girl's spine.

"This is Admiral Scheer of the Deutschland Pacific Fleet, calling to all friendly units in the area…"

"Hey!" Sakawa called, waving a hand in the air. "Where are you guys? It's kinda hard to see you in this mist!"

As Sakawa lowered her guns a dark figure became visible in the mist, and it skated towards them. Beside her, Sakawa could sense her sister tensing up in anticipation – but as the other girl slid into focus she was completely unprepared for what she saw.

Long dark-grey hair. Menacing contoured steel greaves. As the dark figure skated into full view the two cruisers stood there, dumbfounded. Their eyes slid upwards from the pair of beastly triple-gun turrets to the double-breasted navy-blue jacket with gold-ringed sleeves, and then up to the impassive, clear-cut face that now looked upon them.

The strange ship stopped before them. "You are units of the New Imperial Japanese Navy, are you not?" she queried in an austere, cold voice.

Sakawa nodded once, too shocked to speak.

The other ship came to attention and saluted smartly. "Then allow me to introduce myself. I am Admiral Scheer of the Deutschland Pacific Fleet, at your service." Scheer bowed, and the two sisters bowed politely in reply.

"I come to you in our hour of great need. It is quite important for us to reach a base, for I have a message from our own command to relay. Is it far from here?" Scheer asked.

"Ummm…" Sakawa looked down, unsure of what to say. Fortunately Noshiro spoke up for her, diverting Scheer's powerful gaze. "It's only half a day's distance from here. We can take you in if you'd like."

"That would be much appreciated." Scheer bowed once more. As she rose back up, she detached the radio speaker from her waist and spoke into it.

"All ships fall in on my location. Escort found, orders relayed and received." Even before Scheer had clipped the speaker back on her holster another dark shape loomed up through the mist.

Both cruisers gaped as another girl sailed into clear sight – this one was tall, blond, dressed in a tight grey vest with equally dark long stockings, sporting a large sea-grey peaked cap. But what was more terrifying were the four monstrous, blocky twin turrets that were linked across a finely-wrought steel frame.

The mist cleared, and the Agano sisters looked on in utter surprise as the entire German squadron fell in neatly behind Scheer. Another battleship filed in behind the first, this one more lithe and graceful, with long black hair and twinkling blue eyes; a carrier (Sakawa could tell by the shield she carried) with elegant blonde curls and a cheerful spring in her step, making light of the enormous black crossbow she carried; a cruiser of stern countenance and appearance that reminded Sakawa of their own Ooyodo; and finally a little destroyer who looked much like a boy, with short grey hair, blue cap and sailor's outfit

"This is Bismarck," Scheer introduced the first battleship, who closed her eyes and nodded in acknowledgement. "Gneisenau-" The other battleship bowed slightly, "Seydlitz-" the cheery carrier waved an enthusiastic hand in the air, "Konigsberg-" the cruiser bowed stiffly, "and Z1, who you may also refer to as Leberecht." Scheer finished, while the destroyer bowed a little as well.

"Umm, it's nice to meet you all!" Sakawa blustered, some of her initial embarrassment fading away. "I'm Sakawa, of the Agano-class cruisers, and this is my sister Noshiro-"

"A pleasure." Noshiro bowed quickly, and then turned to Sakawa. "Shouldn't we be going?" she whispered into her sister's ear. "That Hime might be gone, but I'm feeling uneasy about-"

"Yes, you're right, sister!" Sakawa turned away from her and bowed again in apology to the assembled Germans. "Please, if you wouldn't mind following us…"

As the enlarged fleet now sailed northwards, a short-wave radio signal sped across the ocean from an observation post on another island close by the two fleets' meeting place. The signal zigzagged through a series of signal boosters stationed on other, similarly abandoned islands, until it reached the receiving tower.

A buzz of static preceded a mad scramble for the radio set as eager ears plugged themselves in. The report came in clearly.

"OV Post 14d reporting… Green fleet King Mike first contact Yellow fleet 1276P 1543hrs local time, I repeat, Green fleet King Mike first contact Yellow fleet 1276P, current relative bearing of approximately 32 degrees."

"32 degrees relative?" The receiving officer slumped in her chair. "But that could only mean…"

Another scramble followed as the officer jumped out of the chair, to the surprise of nearby aides, who saw her grab the headset and speaker for the HQ line radio.

"HQ? This is Receiving Station Wake, fourth watch officer reporting. It's beginning, sir, they're here at last. To clarify - Operation Eclipse is go."


End file.
